


Eden

by whatsarasays



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Post-Resident Evil 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 18:03:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17965463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatsarasays/pseuds/whatsarasays
Summary: Theirs was a life in umbrage. An Eden which flourished in dusk and shadows, nourished by secrecy and concealment.Yet here they sat in the glow of morning.





	Eden

Ada raked her fingers through his hair, fingernails massaging his scalp, and Leon breathed a deep, sated hum in response. Amusement tugged at the corner of her mouth, endeared by his contentedness. Morning-light poured in through the bedroom windows and surrounded them in a heaven-like glow, the beams reflecting in Leon's hair, making it gleam golden.

She supposed this was what drew people into stability, security, serenity. It had taken her decades to even develop a category for such things, but she had the man who was currently purring in her lap to blame for giving her a peek.

It all glinted like forbidden fruit.

She wished she could be as selfish as Eve.

One greedy bite could bring down this ramshackle farce of an Eden they had built. Their garden was fragile and hung suspended between threats and obligations and sheer impossibility, and she would not risk his life to sample what she knew they could never have.

Instead, she would scoff.

Belittle the fruit, call it bitter, pretend she gave it up of her own volition.

It was in her nature to toy with temptation, however. And as the months and years dragged on, clandestine rendezvous in foreign hotels had slowly given way to unhurried lovemaking in Leon’s flat. She was tired. As was he. Their fatigue showed as they began to collapse into one another more and more.

Ada moved to trace the plains of his cheeks and bridge of his nose, feeling the malformations from too many breaks and reconstructions. She counted his beauty marks, traced his crow’s feet and worry lines; wiped the pad of her thumb along the cleft of his chin and stroked against the grain of his stubble.

Leon cracked open an eye to glare at her, “Stop mushing my face around, woman.”

She arched an eyebrow, “You love it. Don’t even try to deny it.”

To emphasize her point, Ada dug her hand back into his hair and gave it a firm yank at the roots. Leon predictably softened with a satisfied sigh. She ticked her chin up and smirked in triumph. But her victory was abruptly cut short as he grabbed a fistful of her shirt collar and snatched her down into a demanding kiss. It melted into something ardent and warm. She could feel him smile.

“Is that your plan? Kiss me to shut me up?” she murmured against his mouth as she broke the kiss.

“Wonder who I learned that from?” He glanced down at the fabric sliding through his fingers as he released her collar, “Is this my shirt?”

“It’s cold in your apartment,” she said with a shrug as she righted herself.

“Keep it. It looks good on you.”

“I’ll pass, red’s more my color.”

“Yeah, no shit,” he snorted as he rubbed his eyes.

“Someone’s sassy this morning.”

“Well, I usually don’t get to see you in the daylight. Can’t blame me for being a little excited.”

Ada’s mouth dropped into a straight line, sobering at the reminder that theirs was a life in umbrage. Their bond flourished in dusk and shadows, nourished by secrecy and concealment. Yet here they sat.

Leon seemed to recognize her sudden distance and nodded to himself. Lifting his head from her lap, he slid out from under the covers and snatched up his pants from the floor. Ada noticed a limp as he stepped into one of the legs and clocked the fresh surgical scar on his right knee.

“Can I at least make you a cup of coffee before you go?” He tried to question casually, but though his back was to her, she could still feel the hope radiating off him as he busied himself with dressing.

His rustling stilled when she hesitated, and he dared to look over his shoulder.

The fruit twisted on its stem.

She hated when he played the snake.

After a prolonged silence, his face fell.

“Right,” he clipped in resignation.

She tried to spin the moment into coyness, “Leon, you trust me?”

He huffed a somber laugh in recognition of the familiar conversation from a lifetime ago and bowed his head, bangs scrapping his cheeks. He rested the back of his hips against the dresser and crossed his arms before locking her gaze in a firm stare. His eyes had grayed over time, as had the hair at his temples.

“Always,” he said steadily.

She searched him.

His offer had not been lightly made.

Regaining her humor, Ada tipped her head primly, “I take my coffee black.”

Eden was crumbling anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Currently working on a longer-length piece, but got stuck listening to _Two Slow Dancers_ by Mitski on repeat one night and then this happened. Somehow started as a fluffy, cliche drabble and ended as ‘screw it, let’s accept the inevitable decay of our human bodies and at least die together.’ Someone help me, I can’t write happy things. 
> 
> Also, I’m in search of a beta, so holla’ if you like criticizing.


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